Nightmare at Skywalker Ranch
by Jedi Cool
Summary: The Making of Episode II, filtered through the sensibilities of Wes Craven and the Zucker brothers


No celebrities endorsed or contributed to this story in any way. Any and all fictional characters belong to The George. Any and all real people belong to their respective creators. We're not being paid for this…although we wish we were.

**__**

A Nightmare at Skywalker Ranch…by Jedi Cool, with Randy G.

1.

__

Lucas Makes Final Casting Choices! read the feature article in the _Los Angeles Times_.

__

Anxious Actors Await Anakin Announcement, proclaimed _Variety._

George Lucas Has '666' Tattooed on Scalp, alleged the _Weekly World News_. They also printed the most flattering photos of the three.

With the script finished and final casting completed, George Lucas folded the newspapers with a bemused expression on his face. Yes, everyone would be surprised when the announcement would be made shortly concerning who would and would not be in the long-awaited Star Wars: Episode II. He took no small amount of satisfaction that he had been able to keep the final casting choices secret, though rumors had dogged him every time a young actor made the trek to Skywalker Ranch. "No," he would insist to an ever-inquisitive press, "you're thinking of Neverland. Skywalker Ranch is perfectly safe for all ages, I assure you."

For now, though, he would be content with tinkering with ILM's new toy: the Virtual Reality Motivational Acting Scene Simulator. Lucas considered the VR-MASS a boon to science-fiction film actors everywhere. This new technology would enhance the movie-making experience for his performers and he hoped it would draw out more believable performances from them. After some of the reviews last time, he figured it couldn't hurt.

__

Tomorrow, he thought, _will begin a new era in filmmaking. Sure, I think that every time, but this time I really, really mean it_.

2.

Meanwhile, out in the dark Marin County night, a mysterious figure stole through the Skywalker Ranch grounds. He raced past spotlights, crept through holes in security, fooled the hounds by dropping lots of Snausages around, and found his way into the Special Effects bungalow. The sinister figure waited until he was certain everyone was gone for the night—except for Old Man Witherby, the narcoleptic night watchman who used to run the amusement park down the street, of course, but that mattered not--and began performing his nefarious tasks.

3.

The next morning, Lucas and his little buddy, Rick McCallum, waited patiently for their guest. 

"Remember", said Lucas, "keep him happy, okay? We've got a lot riding on this."

"Hey! Keep the talent happy, I always say," replied McCallum, "and don't worry, George! This piece of equipment will knock his socks off."

"Speaking of riding," Lucas gestured to a motorcycle coming past the security post and into the compound. The cycle came to an abrupt halt in front of the two men and the rider removed his helmet to reveal a full head of shoulder-length hair. 

"George, Rick, " acknowledged the new arrival in a voice which seemed genial for now, but was reserving the right to turn irritatedly outspoken at a moment's notice.

"Ewan," answered both men at once. 

Ewan McGregor had just flown in from England and was dreading having to go through yet another haircut. For Star Wars, however, he was willing to make the ultimate tonsorial sacrifice, even if it meant putting on that…that braid. It was just so…femme. But what he was more wary of was this new piece of technology that would "help" his acting. 

"So George, let's not beat aroun' th' bush 'ere. What're yeh plannin' to stick in the back of me 'ead?"

"Implant! Not 'stick'!" answered Lucas quickly, before Ewan could threaten to quit again. "Wait until you see what we've done."

4.

The three men headed into the Special Effects cottage and strolled past terminal upon terminal until they came to a locked room. Once inside, McCallum turned on a light switch, illuminating the room filled with various fillmmaking doodads and gizmos. Taking up the entirety of one wall was a giant "blue screen" backdrop, one of many which had been used in the production of all those effects used in the last "Star Wars" movie. McCallum picked up a nasty-looking device with a flashing light and a clamp at the end. "This is the latest bit of technology to come out of ILM, Ewan. Do you remember working with these bluescreens?"

"Aye, it was th' most borin' experience of muh life. Just standin' there and frownin', pretendin' tha' somethin' interestin' was goin' on. Kinda like bein' at Jake Lloyd's birthday party."

"I know!" shouted George enthusiastically, "But now, that's all in the past. This cortical image-enhancer—the 'VR-MASS'--will be attached to the base of the skull of every actor working on the film. It will allow you to 'see" the action as the audience would see it. No more staring at bluescreens, you will actually be able to perform naturally."

"Well, I dunno about that. I dinnae think I like th' idea of somethin' puttin' images in muh mind. It just don't seem natural."

"Trust us", soothed McCallum, "You'll love the experience. We're thinking about marketing a version of it so that people can experience scenes from the movie in the comfort of their own home. It'll cost a bundle, though."

"Well, Rick," interrupted George, "if we make it too affordable, then movies will become obsolete! Everyone would just stay home and plug in one of these. Then where would I be?"

"Spendin' more time workin' on yuir writin', I'd wager," Ewan spoke out.

George raised a quizzical eyebrow, but then his mind quickly switched tracks. "Anyway, what do you say we give it a try? Test run this baby!"

After much protest from Ewan, and cajoling and friendly persuasion from George and his trusty sidekick, they finally got him to agree to try out the device. After attaching the enhancer cord to the base of the skull, McCallum reached over to a computer terminal and hit a few keys. And with that…Ewan was in a world of his own.

Rick looked at George and wondered aloud, "Hey, if I hit 'control-alt-delete', will it reboot his personality?"

Without looking up from the dials and meters, George replied, "We're hoping to add that feature to the VR-MASS 2.0."

5.

Ewan felt exhilarated. He saw himself, with perfect clarity, walking down a dark stone corridor. He could feel a cool breeze coming from the end of the hall. He could smell the dampness that pervaded the air. He could feel the tree limb on the floor trip him and send him face first to the ground.

As he picked himself up, he saw a shadow coming out of the darkness and, stepping forward, was able to see a familiar figure cloaked in black…with a red face, black facial tattoos, tiny superfluous goat's horns on its head, and a menacing look on his face. Not that the makeup itself wasn't menacing enough, but the scowl etched on the figure's face just added more icing to an already finished cake. A really, really evil cake.

"Bloody Hell!" he yelped and jumped back a foot, closing his "eyes". "What do yeh think yeh're doin'? Wot's HE doin' in there?"

"Relax, relax," came Lucas' disembodied voice from the walls, "we're giving you a look at one of the sequences we're planning."

"But, it's Darth Maul! Wot's 'e doin' innis?"

"Well, we're giving him another go at it," reasoned McCallum's equally disembodied voice from the floor.

"But, 'e's_ dead!_ George, you said so yourself. You cut him in half so no one could say he was comin' back!"

"I changed my mind," stated Lucas. "Are you alright with this?"

Ewan calmed down a wee bit. It wouldn't do to throw a hissy fit like a VH1 diva or something. "Uh….yeah. Right, then."

McCallum smooth-talked, "Don't worry, no one can access the VR-MASS's control unless they're in here. The only time you'll be getting images is when we're filming."

"Ok, ok. I think I'll be alroit. But yeh really should warn a fellow."

A few minutes later, McCallum and Lucas watched him ride off on his motorcycle, the enhancer snugly clamped to his skull for the duration of filming. "See, George, no problem. It just took a little persuasion. What's a producer for, after all?"

"I try not to worry, Rick," answered Lucas softly. "But this won't work unless he's willing to stick it out."

"George, George, George. He's under contract! Willing, schmilling, I say."

6.

Later returning to his hotel room in town, Ewan attempted to relax. He couldn't bring himself to tell Lucas and McCallum the awful truth…that he, Ewan McGregor, world-renowned outspoken actor, idol of millions, _was_ afraid. It was so silly, _him_ being afraid of a fictional character. The nightmares that had plagued him since Episode I's filming had subsided and not returned since he knew Maul would never come back. But, now….now…

Now he was out like a light. And as he slept, he dreamt…

He was walking down a long dark corridor. The stone walls reflected shadows everywhere due to flickering firelight coming from somewhere…he couldn't hazard to guess from where. Once again, he felt the breeze and the humidity, but this time he managed to sidestep the tree limb. That's when he stepped on the rake, standing it upright into his nose.

"BLOODY—" he began to yell as he held his aching nose, but he stopped mid-epithet. He saw a shadow come out of the darkness. His blood froze. The figure moved into view and smiled a vicious grin. 

"Thought you got rid of me, eh?", the spectre of Darth Maul announced in a…a much different voice. It was Maul…but it didn't sound like him. The figure laughed uproariously, approached, and…

…Ewan awoke, screaming.

7.

The next morning, he arrived late at the ranch and spent much of the day trying to keep himself awake. He made his way zombie-like through discussions about costuming ("When do I stop wearin' the braid? Sir Alec didn't wear one, so I MUST stop wearin' it sometime. Why not now?") and stunt-fighting ("Must I do this? Can't I just carry a pistol?"). 

The trio inevitably ended up in the Special Effects cottage again. Ewan's eyes were heavy with want of sleep. He had a vague recollection of meeting someone who was going to play a senator or something. He hoped he hadn't offended anyone with his fatigue, although the black eye that now accesorized his aching nose gave him the distinct hint that he was indeed misremembering. Finally, sitting down in a comfortable chair, he waited for Lucas to finish an important character conversation with the forgotten actor.

He awoke with a start. Lucas was nowhere in sight. _Now ye've done it._he cursed himself_, yeh've fallen asleep on the States' most beloved filmmaker since Frank Capra. _He rose and looked around the bungalow a bit. It seemed to have more rooms than he remembered., and not a living soul in any of them. The faint breeze carried with it not a single echo.

He thought to himself that he must have slept till closing time. But why did nobody awaken him? He went to a restroom to wash his face up a bit. Perhaps that would help clear up the cobwebs.

He rinsed his battered visage thoroughly in the basin. As he inspected his black eye, a second face appeared next to his in the mirror.

"Have a problem with another irate 'Trainspotting' fanatic, did you?"

Ewan quickly turned and stammered, "Liam! What are yeh doin' here?"

Liam Neeson laughed. "You don't remember? Not a thing?"

"About what?"

"Me arriving at the ranch? To talk to George about my cameo in the new movie? You spilling your drink on me and calling me a…I believe the term you used was 'bloody wanker', or perhaps something stronger?"

"I dinnae remember a bit o' what yeh're tellin' muh."

"Then I must have punched you harder than I thought."

"Well, if I can't remember it, then no hard feelings, an' all that rubbish." Ewan shook his head. "Listen, what d' yeh think about this fancy device George's concocted?"

"I don't mind it at all myself. I always hated those bluescreens", reassured the tall, broad-shouldered idol of even more millions.

"Well, I think mine is going screwy. I keep having these odd dreams," responded the younger actor.

"What kind of dreams?" queried Neeson, who was now smiling just a bit too broadly. Ewan also noticed that his eyes seemed a bit…yellow.

"Well, um, I keep seein' that bloody…" Ewan froze.

Neeson's skin turned blood red. Black lines etched themselves quickly around his features. Tiny litle horns pricked their way through his scalp, as his hair retracted into his head.

"What the…AAAAHHH!!" Ewan yelled in a most unbecoming manner, as "Neeson" completed his transformation into…Darth Maul! 

8.

"I'll tell you what's going on, Pretty boy," growled Maul. Except there was that strange un-Maul-like voice again. "I'm going to give you a taste of obscurity." He pushed Ewan down into a chair that had popped out of nowhere behind him. Several thick ropes shot out of its armrests and encircled Ewan, holding him fast. A television set materialized in front of him. Maul whipped a remote and turned on the TV. 

KLIK! Onscreen came a clip from a film that Ewan barely recognized. A dark background indicated outer space and a wild-looking space-craft zoomed toward a large, spherical "mother ship". Then, suddenly, he realized what he was watching. 

"Independence Day'?" he shot back. "You're makin' me watch 'Independence Day'????!!!"

"Not just 'Independence Day'", pronounced Maul gleefully, "But 'Independence Day' starring _you!!!"_

Ewan watched in horror as a close-up in the interior of the fighter craft revealed that pilot was, indeed, himself! As the small spaceship plowed through space, his character crowed, "I've gottae be gettin' me one o' these!!!!"

The real Ewan was aghast. "No! You can't do this to me. I swore I'd never taint muh soul with crrrap like that!"

"Yet there it is! How about this one?" menaced Maul as he flipped stations. KLIK! A group of people were seated at a table. As he looked closer, though, Ewan realized the people were actually giant teddy bears. 

"Say it isn't so. Please, yeh've gottae stop! Not 'The Avengers'!" He covered his eyes as the lead teddy bear removed the head of his costume to reveal…himself!

"Not bad, eh? Scotland's biggest export since Sean Connery, are you? Maybe you should take all of his bad movies, and everyone else's!" Maul cheerfully manipulated the controls again.

There it was, on every channel, Ewan McGregor starring in crappy film after crappy film: 

KLIK! Helping Kevin Kline fight a giant robot spider while they took turns reapplying each other's fake mustaches and goatees… 

KLIK! Lecturing Ben Affleck and Steve Buscemi, "Th' President's jus' asked us tae save th' world…anyone want tae be sayin' nae?"… 

KLIK! Staring down the humongous, smelly maw of a giant fish-eating lizard with the size, color, and personality of a skyscraper… 

KLIK! Dressed in a black suit, claiming to be Death Incarnate, then shagging the girl from "Mallrats" rotten... 

KLIK! Kidnapping Cameron Diaz, only to have her…wait a minute, he_ had_ done that one! 

"No, please stop! I'll do anythin' ye ask! Just stop, pleasssssssse", he cried and slumped down in the chair. Maul zoomed in closely, teeth bared like fangs, when suddenly—

9.

'plink'

Ewan found himself again in the real world, sitting in the chair where he had first sat down to rest. George Lucas and Rick McCallum were scuffling with a black-robed figure while, at the door, Liam Neeson stood holding the VR-MASS's electrical plug. 

"There's always a way to turn it off," Neeson quipped.

Subduing the stranger, Lucas and McCallum pulled him forward and McCallum announced in his dramatic producer's style, "Let's see who our friend is, shall we?" They pulled off the dark, scary mask to reveal…

"Old Man Witherby, the night watchman who used to run the amusement park down the street???"

Ewan spoke out, as only an outspoken actor such as Ewan can speak out, "Whoa, there, boyos, that be a mask as well!" They pulled off the wrinkly latex mask that had been under the previous, darker, scarier mask to reveal…

"Ray Park!!!!!!!!!" , yelled everyone in the room. For his part, Park sank to his knees, weeping uncontrollably.

"What's been going on here?" bit Ewan through clenched teeth, in doing so stifling his accent quite well.

"We caught him in here, manipulating the controls to the VR-MASS," explained Lucas. "He's been using it to project the image of Maul into your dreams."

"But why?" asked Ewan, his curiosity piqued. "What did I do to you?"

"You took my press!" yelled Park in his own rather unfrightening Eric-Idle-esque patois. "Before Episode I came out, everyone wanted a piece of me. I was on all of the magazine covers, all of the toy packages, all of the t-shirts, even UNDERWEAR! Then they got a look at you and, all of a sudden, I wasn't good enough! You had a million lines, while I only had five. You got to show your handsome mug, while mine was covered in monster make-up. It's you that's got the women swooning, while I'm 'out' on the Entertainment Weekly 'In and Out' list. I got booted out of their 'Power 101' issue by PIKACHU! A walking, talking, furry SPONGE! (sob)"

"Well, yeh've got tae admit, Ray, yeh didn't do well for yuirself. Pickin' parts like yeh did. I mean _Toad_ in th' "X-Men" movie? A third-string character at best. And chargin' for autographs? Twenty-five dollars is an awful lot t' be askin' fer yuir sig, mate. Yeh cannae treat yuir fans like that. "

Park wept uncontrollably. Through wracking, guilt-laden sobs, he explained, "I thought that if I scared you off of the film, I would be able to keep the ladies' attention focused on me. And I would've gotten away with it too if it hadn't been for that meddlin' Irishman!" He snarled through his tears at Neeson, still nonchalantly holding the VR-MASS's electrical plug, twirling it about absentmindedly.

"Well, I hate to tell you this, Ray, "said Lucas somewhat solemnly, but not very, "but you would've had more competition than Ewan. Our Anakin is going to drive the women wild!"

"No! It can't be! Tell me you're just pulling one over on me, please," he begged pitifully. Lucas summoned the real Old Man Witherby to help him cart off former star Ray Park to the proper authorities.

McCallum unhooked Ewan's VR-MASS and promised that they would only hook it up to him after his daily arrivals on the set. Ewan breathed a sigh of relief and reluctantly thanked the executive producer for his help, thinking to himself, _I've just thanked a producer for something. I hope nobody saw me._

McCallum, oblivious to anything except surface emotions, cheerfully replied, "No problem, Ewan. After all, we're going to have enough problems with our Anakin actor. We certainly didn't need you going over the edge. Keep the talent sane, I always say. Well, except that Downey kid. He works better when he's toasted. Go figure."

Ewan laughed lightly in return and asked, "What's wrong with th' Anakin actor…whomever he may be?" McCallum smiled at the hint.

"No dice yet, Ewan. But I can tell you that he's not happy at having his features 'disfigured', as it were, onscreen during the molten pit duel."

"Well, I mean, it's part of th' script, yeh know? If he wants th' job, he's gottae do it, roit?" Ewan said his good-byes and rode off Skywalker Ranch, pausing only briefly to watch the prostrate form of Ray Park being dragged, like the ballast he was, into a police car and taken away.

Liam, Lucas, and McCallum watched them go. Liam looked at the two other men, smiled, and said, "See, nonsense like this is exactly why I didn't do 'Darkman 2'."

10.

That evening, Ewan stood in the small hotel kitchenette making some microwave popcorn and blaring music from his CD player. _Round are way, the birds are still singing/Round are way, the sun shines bright…._ The phone rang.

With a muttered curse, he switched off the music and picked up the receiver. The smell of hot popcorn was in the air. He really wanted nothing more than to enjoy a nice uneventful evening. Putting the receiver to his ear, Ewan announced, "Hello?"

A malevolent voice intoned, _"Do you like scary movies?"_

"Leonardo, yeh bloody wanker, for th' last time, SOD OFF!"

With that, Ewan hung up rudely, cranked up the Oasis, and chowed down on the Jiffy-Pop like there was no tomorrow.

The End. 

No idols of millions were harmed in the making of this fanfic. All accents are fictional; any resemblance to accents real or previously invented by Meryl Streep is purely coincidental.


End file.
